


Holding out for a Hero -- Bonnie Tyler

by KidaCakes



Series: Song Inspired Stanchez [2]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Explicit Language, Hunkle badass, M/M, Stan’s puns and quips, Zombies, because it's Rick, gross old men, songfic sorta, spanish pines - Freeform, stanchez
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7343506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KidaCakes/pseuds/KidaCakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick should have listened to Stan. Bright side; he gets to see Stan being a badass.</p><p>Enjoy your sins!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding out for a Hero -- Bonnie Tyler

“This is why you should listen to me!” Stan yelled as he was bracing the backdoor of Rick’s workshop closed, the pounding on the other side shaking his body.

“W-well how was I supposed to know it would actually work! It's fucking words a-a-and it isn't possible!” Rick moved around quickly, gathering pieces of metal, wires, circuitry, anything that he could grab that would do.

“ _Because_ you should believe me when I tell you! I mean, fuck, how many times will someone raise the dead here before realizing just saying random Latin in a book is a BAD IDEA!” Stan growled and stumbled backwards as the door broke open, the zombie horde now coming in. 

Stan grunted as he swung with the wooden leg of a chair he had grabbed, knocking the head off another zombie. A swing to the right and another one was down. But they just kept coming. It was such a large horde of zombies, he was having trouble keeping them back.

“Rick! I'm not sure how much longer I can keep them back! Is it don-- The only wrinkly hands allowed on me belong to my husband, you decaying fuck!” Stan slammed the chair leg into the zombie’s skull that had ripped off a sleeve of his suit. 

“I-I-I’m working as fast, as quick as I can, Lee! I make robots for fuuUURRGhhn but, shit dawg. I-It’s gonna be, gonna be a minute to make a singing fucking rooOOUUghbot,” Rick yelled back, sparks flying as he haphazardly welded pieces of metal together to make the frame of the robot. He swung around to another part of the table, soddering a circuit board, going as fast as he could.

Stan snarled as he kept swinging, bashing zombie skull after zombie skull until the leg splintered apart. He cursed, tossing it and lifting his fists, the dim light glinting off the metal of the brass knuckles. Fists flying now, smashing them into the reanimated faces. He was losing ground, they were an unrelenting wave.

“Let me fix that for you, slack jaw!” Fist connected with the half attatched jaw of a zombie to his right, sending the lower half flying and the monster falling back. 

A zombie lunged forward, trying to bite at Stan’s neck, which he quickly smashed the thing's face in. “You gotta buy me dinner first, asshole!”

Stan was panting hard and sweating profusely; suit ripped in multiple places with a sleeve torn off, his skin peppered with cuts and scrapes. He was getting tired, real tired, but he kept swinging, knowing he couldn't stop now. 

“Done, Lee! W-w-we need to get to the roof. Need to, need to hook up to the satellite to am-amp- to enhance the signal!” Rick was scooping the little robot into his arms, a duffle bag hanging from his arms.

That was all Stan needed to hear. He grabbed a bookcase and pulled it down hard, toppling over on a few zombies and slowing down the rest. Stan booked it over to Rick and in one fluid motion picked up the lanky genius, bridal style. Crashing out the door of Rick’s workshop, the wood splintering from the force he rammed the door with, not missing a beat as he ran to the house a few hundred yards away.

Rick couldn't even protest as he was carried, there was no time for it since the horde was already following them again and the ones outside the workshop pursuing them as well. He looked up at his husband, the moonlight bathing him in an ethereal light, grey hair wild and face determined. He looked like a hero from an epic. If they weren't mortal danger, he'd have fucked him right then and there. Instead he just looked on in awe, his breath caught in his throat.

Stan had to skid around a few zombies, shouldering one that had gotten too close, before they reached the house, rounding on a ladder that had been left leaning against the house, meant to be used to reshingle the roof. It worked in their favor now. He let Rick down, grabbing the duffle bag from him, before urging the skinny man up the ladder. Rick had the robot slung over his shoulder, making it a bit awkward to get up the ladder but he made it. Stan was fighting off two zombies before he made his own way up the ladder, knocking it over once he was on the roof. 

Rick was already at the satellite, pulling wires out and apart, sitting the robot right by them. Stan put the duffle bag next to Rick, which the other dived into, pulling out parts and two microphones. A few, desperate minutes and it was ready. 

Rick gave Stan a microphone, flipping the robot on, and grabbing his own. They hadn't thought of a song. Fuck. His genius mind stuttered before out, “Where have all the good men gone”

Stan gave him a weird look before shaking his head, joining in on the next line, “And where are all the gods?”

The robot chimed in and they sang together. The satellite dish converted into a makeshift amp, broadcasting the song over the hordes, defeating them.

Once the song was over, the last zombie defeated, Stan fell back on the roof, thoroughly exhausted. Rick sat by him, panting slightly but smiling. Even in their old age, they were still a bad ass team.

Stan looked over at him, a smirk on his face. “Holding out for a hero, huh?” His tone teasing.

Rick blushed slightly before “pfffbt’ing” and waving his hand, brushing it off. “I-It was the first thing that popped into my, into my head. Fucking fight me.”

“Pluuuus, you did look pretty fucking hoOOUURGHt fighting those zombies,” Rick added, looking at him with a sleezy smirk.

Laughing, Stan slung his arm around the other's shoulders, bringing him closer. “Yer such a sap. Let's get this crap cleaned up before the kids come back tomorrow.” 

“...Can we have hot, adrenaline-fueled sex first?” 

“...Well, obviously. Not gonna let a rush like this go to waste!”

**Author's Note:**

> "Street-wise Hercules" made me think of Stan, immediately. The image of him being an ultimate badass when fighting the zombies while I listened to the song just, mmm, yes. Yes, you are Stan. Rick and I agree, you are a sexy beast.


End file.
